Fickle, a new poem.

There’s something about a glass of wine (or a bottle) along with a sweaty workout that gets the blood flowing. And blood flowing leads to writing, writing, writing. ———————— You were the lie I told myself, The truth I made myself believe. My careless mind let down its guard To a heart that would deceive.…

One-Third Life Crisis?

I realize that I’m a little old for a quarter life crisis and a bit too young for a mid-life crisis, yet I feel this sudden urge to flip my world upside down. Is there such a thing as a one-third life crisis? If so, I think I may be having one. I want to…